


mnemonic device

by annejumps



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bossy Eddie Kaspbrak, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25466047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: Eddie lowers himself just slightly to kiss him, a brief touch of lips that Richie follows when Eddie draws back a bit. “You gotta remember when I tell you to do shit,” he whispers, a smile in his voice.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 119





	mnemonic device

"Hey," Eddie says, and walks up to the couch to ruffle Richie's hair. He's fallen asleep on the couch, laptop still open. "C'mon. Let's go to bed, it's almost midnight."

Richie snorts awake. "Hmmph. What?"

"Bed," Eddie tells him absently, glancing into the kitchen. "Rich. Did you not rinse those dishes in the sink and put them in the dishwasher like I asked?"

"Uh," Richie answers, groggy, "if they're still in the sink, I guess not?"

Eddie snorts, ruffling Richie's hair again, then briefly tugging on his curls, something that makes him hitch in a breath and sit up straighter. "Sweetheart," Eddie sighs, unable to entirely keep all affection from his voice, "why can't you remember to do shit unless I remind you?"

"Habit?" Richie replies, hopeful, eyebrows raised, grin baring all his teeth.

"No, really." Eddie strokes his fingers through Richie’s hair. “When I ask you to do something I want you to do it, you know.” Richie makes a rumbling sound in his chest and leans his head against Eddie’s side. “Hey. Listen to me. Don’t fall asleep again just because I’m petting you.”

“‘M not falling asleep,” Richie says, drowsy.

“Put your laptop away and come to bed,” Eddie says, firm.

“What about the sink?”

“It’ll wait,” Eddie decides. 

With one hand, Richie shuts his laptop and sets it aside; Eddie takes his other hand, and helps pull him up. It’s partly a joke; Richie is significantly taller and heavier than he is. Still, Eddie leads him to the bedroom. They’re already in their sleep clothes, and they’d both brushed their teeth before Richie decided he needed to go back to the living room and turn on his laptop because he’d had an idea. Eddie had read a book for a while until he figured Richie had probably fallen asleep out there. He’d been right, of course.

“Oof.” Eddie pushes Richie toward the bed, and he exaggerates his landing on it, rolling over with a groan and holding out his arms to Eddie, who grins before clambering onto the bed. He puts a hand on either side of Richie, raised up above him. Richie pouts, although of course he can easily put his big hands on Eddie’s sides. 

Eddie lowers himself just slightly to kiss him, a brief touch of lips that Richie follows when Eddie draws back a bit. “You gotta remember when I tell you to do shit,” he whispers, a smile in his voice.

“Maybe I like it when you remind me,” Richie whispers back immediately.

“Well, I’d like it if you’d remember,” Eddie counters, leaning in again to capture Richie’s lower lip in his teeth for a moment, savoring it when that makes Richie hiss in a breath.

“Then I guess we’re at an impasse,” Richie says, low.

“That’s a big word for someone who can’t remember to rinse the dishes in the sink.” Eddie lowers himself onto Richie, but slowly, not letting his weight fully rest on him.

“I’ve got a lot of other big stuff too.” Richie slides his hands up under Eddie’s thin t-shirt, toward the center of his back, then, and Eddie shivers, huffing out a laugh at the same time. He kisses Richie again, still light, and can feel him smiling at the fact that Eddie couldn’t help laughing. "'Impasse' isn't even a big word," Richie adds against his lips, like he’s just realizing. "'Predicament' is a big word. We're in a predicament. Or a quandary." 

"Yeah, English major?" Eddie lets his weight settle more on Richie, particularly at their hips, where they’re both getting hard, and kisses Richie's stubbled jaw, then just under the cut of it, down his neck, over his pulse, sucking at his skin. Richie's breathing harder, tilting his head back. "You're not just gonna listen to me the first time?"

Richie swallows. "I… guess not?"

Eddie _tsks_ , and lets his weight settle on Richie now, slowly rocking his hips down against Richie's, deliberate. Richie's breathing is rougher now and his hands are still, at least for the moment. “I wish you would.”

“I might be able to be convinced…?” Richie allows, shaky, grinding up against Eddie the best he can given the angle. Richie could easily roll them over and grind him into the mattress, but he won’t unless Eddie tells him to. “I can’t make any guarantees, though. Besides,” he starts, hands now sliding restlessly over Eddie’s skin, “I think you like reminding me— Ow,” he gets out, as Eddie gives him a rebuking nip. But he rocks up more firmly against him.

“Yeah, you think I like it?” Eddie stops moving for a second, grinning when Richie’s hips still seek out the friction, and raises up off him a bit, making space between them. “Get me off and I’ll forgive you for the dishes,” he whispers, shifting his weight to one hand to reach for Richie’s hand where it’s resting on his back and guide it to the front of his tented pants. 

Richie’s getting his hand inside when Eddie shifts to get his pants further down his hips, and then to tug at Richie’s waistband too, as he makes a decision. “Do us both,” he says, and Richie instantly complies, wriggling to get his pants down enough to take out his cock, wrapping them both in his long-fingered hand. 

“Yeah, there we go,” Eddie whispers, already breathing harder, bringing his free hand to Richie’s hair, lightly scraping at his scalp as he sucks at the curve of his neck, trying to keep room enough between them. 

Richie’s already starting to pant, stroking them together. It’s mostly dry, but it doesn’t matter. Eddie’s always leaked a lot, and this isn’t meant to take long. He draws in a breath like he’s going to say something, but bites it off in a gasp. “Yeah, lemme hear you,” Eddie murmurs, moving with him. 

“Fuck,” Richie says, breaking it off in a moan when Eddie pulls a lock of his hair. “Eds, please.”

“Please what, sweetheart?” Eddie teases, shifting back a bit just to admire how stunned Richie looks for him, pink in the face and mouth slack in a daze. He loves how tongue-tied Richie can get, for all his mouthy reputation. “This is all you. Get us off.”

Hand tightening around them, not even trying for finesse, Richie strokes them faster, and Eddie doesn’t move from where he is other than fucking into his grip, looking down at their cocks in Richie’s hand, then looking into his face. Eddie knows he’s breathing hard, too. 

Richie’s skin goes pinker when he realizes Eddie’s watching him—Eddie can see the moment he knows—and he screws his eyes shut. Eddie moves his hand from Richie’s hair to cup his jaw instead, and when he opens his eyes Eddie says simply, “I want to watch you.” Richie makes a soft sound of dismay mixed with, Eddie thinks, arousal, huffs out a breath, and attempts to turn his head; Eddie moves his hand to Richie’s jutting chin and gently but firmly holds it, turning Richie to face him again. 

Richie’s hand is basically flying now, no-nonsense, economic movements designed to get them there as quickly as possible. His face is flushing redder even as Eddie watches, his chest heaving; his mouth is slack but at the last minute he bites his lip, and Eddie flicks his gaze up from how fetching it is, knowing that’s one of his tells and he’s close, to look directly into Richie’s eyes. Richie doesn’t look away. He comes with a whimper and a sharp gasp; Eddie watches his lashes flutter. Then, he has to close his eyes for a second, brow furrowed, a shudder running through him. Eddie closes his eyes briefly at the feeling of Richie’s come slick on his cock. It almost makes him come, too, but he can’t make things that easy for Richie. 

“Keep going,” he says. 

Richie keeps stroking them both although Eddie knows he’ll get over-sensitive soon; he also knows Richie kinda likes that, not that he’s said that out loud. But then, he doesn’t have to. 

He lets Richie’s chin go to rest his weight on both his hands and fuck into Richie’s fist, against his cock, and lets himself look at Richie as he gets close: his broad hairy chest, the come on his stomach, the cut of his jaw, his hairy forearms, his long fingers around their cocks. Richie’s flushed all over, panting, eyebrows drawn together in a wince, because, Eddie’s sure, he’s starting to get tender. He’s inexpressibly beautiful. 

Like a cresting wave, Eddie comes, and sinks onto him with a groan, fitting his face into the crook of Richie’s neck like he belongs there. Richie’s hand lets them go and rests gingerly on his back, and his other hand strokes up and down his side, soothing. Eddie hums, low and content.

“Don’t fall asleep just because I’m petting you,” Richie whispers, amused.

“Mm, shut up,” Eddie laughs, muffled. “I could fall asleep like this if I wanted. At least we’re in bed now.” But with a sigh, he reluctantly raises himself up and reaches for a Kleenex from the bedside table, then another, and cursorily wipes them off before tugging his pants up, then helping Richie do the same as he raises his hips. He takes off Richie’s glasses and sets them on the bedside table. 

“I love you,” he tells Richie, watching the way his brows leap up his forehead at that on a very slight inhalation, like he’s startled, like Eddie hasn’t said this a hundred times before. Eddie leans in to kiss him, brief and firm—a goodnight kiss—and Richie recovers quickly, tilting up for it.

“Even when I forget about the dishes?”

Eddie moves off of him to pull the covers back and usher them both underneath, and stretches out alongside him. “Even when you forget about the dishes. Especially then. Always, Rich.” Once Richie’s turned on his side, Eddie turns to put an arm over him, tucking his knees up behind Richie’s as Richie pulls the sheets over them. He kisses the back of Richie’s neck where the skin is soft just at his hairline, and tightens his arm over him when Richie shivers, almost imperceptibly. 

“I’ll rinse the dishes in the morning,” Richie says, sounding drowsy again but different this time. He puts his arm over Eddie’s. “Love you too,” he adds, body tensing, and Eddie hums, pressing against him and feeling him relax in response. 

Although it might be nice, it would be boring and notably less... sexy, he thinks, if Richie remembered _everything_ on his own.


End file.
